


Yours and Mine

by skivvysupreme



Series: The Wax Verse [14]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood Drinking, M/M, Possessive Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 15:04:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5095100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skivvysupreme/pseuds/skivvysupreme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Who's Chandler?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yours and Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during "Dance With Somebody," canon-wise.
> 
> (This series is written out of order. If you'd like a chronological list, I'm on tumblr under the same name, and have a masterpost for this verse which notes the story order!)

Kurt Hummel was leaving Lima, Ohio. That was a fact.

But that was all Blaine knew about his mate at the moment.

He and Kurt hadn’t had a conversation that didn’t start or end with Kurt’s imminent future in New York for… oh, who knows how long? NYADA, online apartment hunting with Rachel (and Finn, if those two got their act together), auditions, the freshman class catalogue, actual breakfast at Tiffany’s, NYADA, more apartments, celebrity-spotting fantasies, NYADA, the Met and the MoMA, NYADA, NYADA, NYADA—

Blaine had nothing to contribute to these conversations, so he simply offered attentive nods and _mm-hmms_ from time to time, but smiling through it and trying not to be resentful was exhausting, if he was honest.

He had never felt the small gap in their ages so acutely until now. Kurt was a future superstar, destined for the lights and sparkle of New York City, graduating to the big leagues, and Blaine was his high school boyfriend, a star in a ragtag Glee club but nothing else. He’d been supportive, and was sincerely excited for Kurt to get out of Lima, but… Blaine wasn’t going anywhere, not for a long time.

So, he took a step back. Kurt certainly didn’t need him, and Blaine had been a lone wolf for a long time before they met. They would be separated sooner rather than later, and Blaine knew how to take care of himself. Plus, his parents knew, so he wouldn’t have to turn alone. Sure, it would be different without his mate by his side—it would be _less_ , so much less, and he almost wished he didn’t know that now—but Blaine would have to deal with it. Might as well start now.

It still hurt to think about, though. Blaine’s pack was falling apart, he, himself, was pulling away, and his mate didn’t seem to notice.

Maybe if Blaine snatched Kurt’s phone away from him, he would see. After all, Kurt had his nose buried in his screen nonstop the past two days—probably more NYADA preparations, judging from that excited flush on his face.

It was ironic that Blaine would end up wishing that were the case.

He’d been looking forward to this evening with Kurt. They had a full moon ahead of them, and Blaine always felt best on nights like these, when he could just let go and not worry about his human drama. He could reconnect with his mate in their wordless, more instinctual way as a vamp and a wolf. They’d go running in the woods, or stay in watching movies in the Hummel-Hudsons’ living room, or just curl up and take a nap on Kurt’s bed.

Instead, Blaine’s heart was shredding itself to pieces as he stared down at Kurt’s phone.

**_When we go to New York, let’s go to the front of the Plaza and reenact the end of The Way We Were!!!_ **

These texts—dozens of them, judging from a quick scroll—were to blame for Kurt’s smile. They’d kept him glued to his phone for days. This… _Chandler_ person, whoever he was, had Kurt’s attention in a way Blaine hadn’t been able to manage in weeks. He was going to be in New York. With Kurt. And he was making plans.

**_Can you sing into my voicemail? I want to make your voice my ringtone ;)_ **

The wolf in Blaine was rearing up, scratching under his skin, unsettled and angry— _MY mate, mine_ —

But Blaine reread the last few texts, then read the new one that popped up as he held Kurt’s phone, and just whined, the canine noise soft and plaintive in Kurt’s otherwise quiet room.

“Okay, I’ve got the food!” Kurt said, his voice bright and melodic as he walked in with a tray of protein-filled snacks and sat them on the bed. “So you can eat before your turn and our night out can officially begin!”

Blaine felt his eyes getting wet; he wished he had more fury at the ready, but the immediate hurt had overridden everything else. “Who’s Chandler?”

Kurt stopped in his tracks, staring down at Blaine with his hands loosely clasped in front of him. “Why are you going through my phone?”

The fact that Kurt was deflecting, that his response was not an immediate explanation of _Who the FUCK is Chandler_ only deepened that heavy feeling in Blaine’s stomach. He felt like an idiot for not seeing this sooner, for not smelling another boy on him. Kurt was leaving Lima behind, leaving him, and… well, they hadn’t touched each other in a while, and Kurt hadn’t fed from him for days… Blaine fought down another whine even as Kurt’s phone vibrated again in his hand.

_He found someone else. He’s cheating on me._

Kurt’s phone was a grenade, each damning text recited back to him in Blaine’s shaking voice as he laid out the evidence. All the while, the wolf was frantic, edging closer to his turn as time ticked on; he had never turned while angry before, but there was a first time for everything—

But then Kurt was reaching for him—no, reaching for the stupid phone, his scent spiked with tension and his voice shrill as he insisted that he hadn’t cheated and snatched the offending item back from Blaine. He threw it on the bed behind him and stepped closer, placing his hands on Blaine’s shoulders.

The gentle touch soothed the wolf, just a little bit.

Kurt sighed. “Just—wait a minute, okay? Calm down. I know it’s _that time_ , and the moon really isn’t helping, but—”

Blaine stepped back, nearly banging into Kurt’s bookshelf because he was out of space. His voice went low as he crossed his arms and muttered, “I am not just upset because it’s—it’s that time of the month, Kurt, I can’t believe you—”

Kurt reached for him again, then thought better of it, clenching his fists at his sides. “You can’t smell him on me, can you? No, you can’t, because there’s nothing to smell! He’s just a guy I met at the music store. Nothing happened. This is innocent. It’s just texting, and you used to do that all the time with Sebastian, you would call him, even—”

“That was different! I told him I had a mate. I never encouraged him, but you… you like this guy.”

And Kurt getting quiet in the face of that accusation, sitting down, admitting that Chandler made him feel good—that was the worst of it, because it was clear what Kurt meant: Blaine wasn’t making him feel as good as some random boy he’d met a few days ago. Blaine wasn’t doing enough for his mate. After all the things they’d shared, all the things they’d been through, all the intimate things Blaine had given him—after Blaine transferred schools to be with him, just to be left in the dust once Kurt eventually high-tailed it out of Ohio—

After all that, Kurt couldn’t feel his love anymore?

No. Blaine didn’t accept that. He loved Kurt as much as he always had, if not more, and maybe Kurt just couldn’t tell because he was so focused on New York.

“If you’re unhappy, please just tell me. Don’t cheat on me,” Blaine pleaded.

Kurt’s eyes went completely black for a second—the way they always did in a moment of angry panic—then back to blue, and he raised his voice again as he yelled, “I didn’t cheat on you! I’m really sorry if this made you upset—”

_Not sorry he did it. Not sorry he’s leaving me._

“—but, it’s okay!”

Blaine couldn't help but growl at him, then, and the sound made Kurt recoil where he sat on the bed, curling into himself a little as he gripped the comforter. “I have to go,” Blaine said in that same low, gravelly voice, then retrieved his bag from Kurt's desk chair and turned to leave the room.

“But—your turn, what about—?”

“Turning alone tonight.”

“You can't just—”

“Yes, I can. Did it for two years without you.” With that, Blaine hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and walked out.

Kurt didn’t chase him, and Blaine only allowed himself a second to feel upset about that before he was down the stairs and out the door.

*****

Kurt had never seen Blaine like this.

Even if the more obtuse of the New Directions could have missed its meaning, the proclamation Blaine made before his performance—”This song is for anyone who’s ever been _cheated on_ ,”—and Kurt’s continued insistence that he had done no such thing definitely cemented it for everyone. Their business was out in the open. And now half the Glee club was staring at Kurt, the other half was watching Blaine’s rage spill out in front of them, and all of them were singing along, surrounding Kurt with Blaine’s message whether he liked it or not.

It was bad enough to hear Blaine’s anger in the way he sang, and to see it in the way his body moved and in that dark look on his face, but unlike the rest of the Glee club, Kurt could also sense it from across the room. It was clear in the too-quick pounding of his heart and the aggression and adrenaline turning his blood sharp and bitter. And Kurt couldn’t ignore any of it, because Blaine’s thoughts were also part of the equation. Ever since Kurt discovered and learned to control his telepathic abilities, he’d made a point not to go into Blaine’s mind without asking, but now, under this sensory barrage and acute awareness of Blaine’s heart, Kurt couldn’t stop it.

Plus, the thoughts beating against Kurt’s consciousness against his will weren’t really thoughts. Blaine’s wolf was drowning out everything else in a way Kurt had never heard while Blaine was in his human body. All Kurt could hear was inarticulate emotion and primal instinct, and it was unsettling to not be able to define what he was hearing in words. But Kurt could still understand it, and the pain and hurt at the core of it made Kurt wrap his arms around himself in a futile attempt to block it out.

When Blaine finished, the last notes tearing from his throat in a growl like the wolf was trying to follow them, he stood there for just a moment, breathing hard and glaring at Kurt while hesitant applause broke out in the choir room between them. Then he turned and stormed out, leaving Kurt and the rest of the Glee club stunned in the settling dust.

Santana’s clapping was the slowest and loudest of all, and she nudged Kurt’s chair with her foot and laughed, “Snap…”

Mercedes and Artie both turned in their seats to stare at him.

“What?” Kurt hissed, trying to control his trembling. “Stop looking at me like that. I didn’t do anything.”

“Blaine is the sweetest person I know and he just dragged you with a Whitney Houston song like it was _Maury: The Musical_ ,” Artie said quietly, hands clasped over his lap. “You did something.”

Mercedes nodded, though her tone was gentler and far less accusatory than Artie’s when she said, “He’s really hurting, Kurt.”

Well, that was the long and short of it, wasn’t it? Kurt was still adamant that he hadn’t cheated, but whether Kurt had cheated or not was a moot point. Somehow, something had broken down between them. Kurt had lost Blaine’s attention, Blaine had lost Kurt’s attention, and when one version of lonely met the other, they’d both done things they probably shouldn’t have.

At the end of the day, Chandler Kiehl was harmless.

Kurt and Blaine were not.

*****

Ultimately, though Kurt sang his heart out in return, stripping himself bare in a way he did not do except in times of crisis, he knew that wasn’t the end of it. It couldn’t be. Kurt hoped it would be, that maybe Blaine would be able to feel his regret and sense his emotion the same way Kurt had when it was Blaine’s turn to sing. But there hadn’t been an immediate reconciliation, despite the soft applause Blaine offered when Kurt sang his last note, and the return of that loving, dewy look in Blaine’s eyes that Kurt had missed so much.

Kurt never wished more that his telepathy worked both ways. And because it didn’t, he reached out for help. Blaine had agreed, with reservations but not hesitation, because Kurt asking for help seemed to highlight how serious this was.

So, there they sat in Miss Pillsbury’s office, for a bit of objective guidance.

Kurt looked away, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and picking at a piece of lint on his Cheerios uniform as Blaine rattled off his pet peeves about Kurt’s habits. He had a point about the finger-snapping problem, maybe, but the lotion thing was just silly, because Blaine really should have moisturized more than just his hands in the first place, it was his own fault if they were the only part of him getting tan—

And then, it seemed, Blaine finally got down to the point of why they were there. When the words _New York_ came out laced with bitter annoyance, Kurt snapped back to attention.

He was offended, at first— _of course New York is going to be amazing, of course I’m excited, wouldn’t you feel the same in my shoes?—_ but as Blaine’s voice, so indignant a moment ago, started to falter, then broke completely as his canine whine crept into it, Kurt understood.

“It’s like you can’t wait to get out of here. How’s that supposed to make me feel?”

Oh, god, he’d been so oblivious.

“You are the love of my life, Kurt. And I’m pissed off that I have to learn, for next year, what being alone is gonna be like.”

What could a “long-distance relationship” even mean to a wolf? No matter how much Blaine tried to reassure himself, something deep in his instincts said that his mate was leaving him, and from his perspective, Kurt was all too happy to do it.

Kurt shook his head and took hold of Blaine’s hand, and again, he wanted to say so much more, to let Blaine in— _You’re part of me, you’re in my blood, I love you, I’m never saying goodbye to you_ —but he didn’t know how. How could he possibly care for a heart like Blaine’s when there was so much of it?

“You aren’t going to be alone,” he said. “And I promise, you aren’t going to lose me.”

Blaine looked at him with such sad adoration that Kurt thought his own heart might break. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.” Kurt reached over and pulled Blaine as closely as he could with the both of them still in their chairs, and Blaine clutched him tight, his fingers digging into Kurt’s shoulder while he buried his face in Kurt’s neck.

Miss Pillsbury made a soft cooing noise. “I think this has been a very successful counseling session, boys.”

Kurt grunted into Blaine’s shoulder, relishing the feeling of warmth and contact after days without it, and Blaine lifted his head and sniffled, “Thank you, Miss Pillsbury,” though Kurt wasn’t sure what she’d actually done.

“Take these and look them over if you like. I think they could be very helpful to you…”

Kurt blocked her out, concentrating on the beat of Blaine’s heart instead. He gave the pile of pamphlets Miss Pillsbury laid in front of them the briefest of glances— _Like My Status: Communication in the 21 st Century, An Extrovert’s Guide to Introverts, An Introvert’s Guide to Extroverts, Should I Type or Should I Skype?_ and _Abandonment 101: Hobbies and You—_ then quickly gathered them and rose from his seat.

He needed to be alone with his boyfriend. Now _._

*****

“The astronomy classroom is empty, come on.” Kurt led Blaine down the hallway, both of them shaky with frayed nerves in the wake of the counseling session. He knew that his words might have been enough for the boy, but not for the wolf, and he could feel the tension rumbling beneath Blaine's skin.

He locked the door behind them, keeping a tight hold on Blaine’s hand, then steered them towards the back of the room.

Blaine turned Kurt around and crowded him against the wall, pressing him into a poster about star cycles as he dug his fingers into Kurt’s waist and whined into his neck. “I-I need—Kurt—”

He pulled Blaine back a bit, stroking the back of his hair, and tilted his face up so he could look in his eyes. Sure enough, they were glowing bright golden yellow in the dim classroom and Blaine's nose kept twitching. “I know,” Kurt said, pulling him close again and wrapping his arms around Blaine's back. “I know, come on, I'm right here.”

“Mine,” Blaine growled. “Mine.”

And Kurt was expecting the lips on his neck, sucking little bruises into his skin, and the iron grip around his waist, but he wasn’t expecting Blaine's hands to suddenly grab underneath his thighs and hoist him up against the wall. He gasped in shock, wrapping his legs around Blaine's waist and tightening his arms around Blaine's shoulders.

Blaine kept working at Kurt’s neck, nosing his shirt down, still nipping and sucking at him, leaving marks that would fade much quicker than normal but were enough to satisfy the wolf for the afternoon. He was so warm against Kurt, his body pinning Kurt to the wall and sending heat vibrating through his chest with every growl that erupted from Blaine's. Kurt just held on tight, though Blaine was holding him up like he weighed nothing, with such a strong, solid grip under Kurt’s legs that Kurt could relax against the wall, tilt his head back, and let Blaine do what he wanted.

“Do I smell like you?”

“Yes. Mine,” Blaine grunted, mouthing at Kurt’s collarbone.

Kurt ran his tongue over his tingling gums and asked, “Want to make it more, make it last longer?”

Blaine pulled back, panting and looking into Kurt’s eyes, watching the pupils expand until everything was ink-black and bottomless. “But you don’t like feeding at school.”

“I love you,” Kurt said, moving a hand to the base of Blaine’s neck where his pulse thumped wildly. He pressed their foreheads together and kissed him, pouring every bit of affection that he could into the touches, hoping Blaine could sense it as strongly as he felt it. “I’m yours, I don’t want you to doubt it for a second. I want you all over me, inside me, you’re—you’re the only one who does this to me—” Kurt’s fangs dropped, and he licked over the sharp tips of them. “I want you to feel my heart.”

There was only one way for Blaine to physically feel Kurt’s heart, and they both knew it.

“Kurt.” Blaine’s eyes went wide, dilating, and his hips jerked forward. “You—you mean… here?”

“Here. Now. Please?” There was a fracture between them, somewhere, and the need to fill it was sending Kurt’s thirst into overdrive. He needed to be as close to Blaine as possible. “I’m sorry about Chandler, I’ll—”

Blaine lunged forward, kissing him hard, and Kurt let out a surprised whimper as his fangs pricked his own bottom lip.

“Sorry, sorry,” Blaine gasped, kissing him much more gently, trying to soothe Kurt’s mouth with his own. “Just… don’t say his name.”

Kurt swallowed and nodded against Blaine’s forehead, licking his lip. “How long can you hold me up like this?”

“I’m good. Let’s warm you up, come on.”

“I love you,” Kurt whispered again, kissing that small, fading bruise on Blaine’s neck where they had done this countless times before. “I’m yours, you’re mine. I’m not letting you go.” He bit down, then removed his teeth immediately, and Blaine’s grip tightened under his thighs with the flash of pain but remained steady. His blood, as always, lit Kurt’s body with warmth and had him tingling from head to toe in a matter of seconds.

“Hold on,” Blaine said, and he only gave Kurt a second to do so before he turned them around and carried Kurt over to one of the classroom tables that was out of sight from the door, depositing him on his back on the surface.

From there, Kurt could barely keep up with the rush of sensation, between Blaine’s warm hand reaching down and rubbing over his hardening cock through his pants and the little marks Blaine kept leaving all over his neck and upper chest. Blaine had never been put off by the sight of his own blood on Kurt’s mouth, and this time was no different; he kissed Kurt with a pleased little grunt, murmured “ _Mine_ ” against his lips, and kept nuzzling back towards Kurt’s ear as he stroked him.

“Missed you, I hated turning without you.” Blaine crawled on top of the table, on top of Kurt, and slotted their legs together. He whined against Kurt’s chest, muffling himself as he grinded against him. “Don’t wanna let you go, don’t want you to leave.”

Kurt felt his face turning pink and he bit back a groan as heat started pooling in his belly. He was so full and warm with Blaine’s blood, and now Blaine was hard against him and pressing him down into the table. There was no one else in the world Kurt would ever feel this way, would ever _want_ to feel this way, he couldn’t imagine it—and they’d almost let themselves fall apart. “Baby, I’m right here, I’m— _oh_ ,” he moaned, “yeah, _Blaine_ , come with me, come with me, please—”

Blaine’s body flushed with heat when he came a moment later, sending Kurt right over the edge with him. Kurt accidentally pricked himself on his fangs again when he clamped his hand over his open mouth to try and hold in his noises, but the split-second pain barely registered when his heart—his normally still, dormant heart—was suddenly thumping in tandem with Blaine’s.

He would never get bored of feeling it, however temporarily, no matter how many times they made it happen.

“It only beats for you,” Kurt whispered, ignoring the usual disappointment he felt when his heart stopped again in favor of wrapping his arms around Blaine’s back and kissing his temple.

Blaine sagged on top of him, panting and nuzzling his nose over Kurt’s heart. “I know. Mine.” He tilted a little and pulled one of Kurt’s hands up, kissing Kurt’s palm before Blaine pressed it to his own chest.

“And this one’s yours.”


End file.
